


Shaken Faith

by Monella



Series: Stardust and Gold [2]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Lesbians in Space, Near Death Experiences, People can fight me about The Master not being deeply in love with the Doctor - Freeform, Poison, Yaz realises she's in love at the wrong moment, but you can pry the ship from my cold deadhands - Freeform, it's totally a 'no no stop trying to break that' love, thasmin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-19 03:03:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22104115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monella/pseuds/Monella
Summary: Yasmin had never heard a sound like it before. Loud, agonising, the sound of a living being being torn apart on a truly molecular level. It was the kind of sound nobody with a soul could recover from hearing. A sound that shouldn't be possible.(It was the kind of sound that would embed itself behind her eyelids and would torment her every time she shut her eyes.)It wasn't the sort of noise her wonderful, amazing Doctor should ever have to make because the thought of the Doctor dying had never occurred to Yaz before. The laws of nature couldn't die.
Relationships: The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who), Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Series: Stardust and Gold [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1591243
Comments: 3
Kudos: 69





	Shaken Faith

**Author's Note:**

> **Short Summary:** To Yaz, it was easy to forget the Doctor wasn't a god, wasn't some immortal being. How couldn't she forget? The Time Lord was etched out of stardust and time itself, energy constantly buzzing from her very core. But not now. Now she looked frighteningly mortal.

Yasmin had never heard a sound like it before. Loud, agonising, the sound of a living being being torn apart on a truly molecular level. It was the kind of sound nobody with a soul could recover from hearing. A sound that shouldn't be possible.

(It was the kind of sound that would embed itself behind her eyelids and would torment her every time she shut her eyes for a lifetime to come.)

She’d never been the kind to shy away from anything: or at least, not from fear. It wasn’t in her nature. Bullies would stay bullies until they were put in their place and the universe would stay wildly unfair until good people handed out justice. The universe. The beautiful, vast, infinite universe – so beyond her understanding and yet slowly she’d gotten to see so much she’d never have imagined.

Her, Ryan and Graham… all three of them had gained something impossible when they’d met her. The gold haired ray of sunshine that never seemed to still, never settling, using them as prisms to bring rainbows into their lives. As a child she’d never really understood how Dorothy felt, going from a world of black and white to a world of colour. She’d never understood what a sacrifice returning to her original life would truly be, it’d seemed simple childlike logic. _There’s no place like home_ and all that.

In many ways, the Doctor had somehow become the Wizard (Witch?) of Oz. A magical, otherworldly being who had offered them the opportunity to make a difference not just to the world – but to the universe.

Their lives, their simple, human, little lives were suddenly so much more.

So some days, too many days, it was easy to forget that the Doctor wasn’t a god. Yaz had never been especially religious: she’d seen the appeal, how it tied into her family, how it tied into her upbringing. Perhaps even her world views had been shaped by the tales told to her through childhood… but to her, the Doctor was as stunning as viewing any new and shining planet.

Humans in all their varying shapes and sizes had plenty of constants. The Time Lord was different and unlike anything she’d seen before. Etched out of stardust and time itself, energy constantly buzzing from her very core until her very skin seemed to struggle to contain her. The Doctor wasn’t a god, but she was timeless, she’d seen and been so many things that it seemed death itself could never touch her. Death itself would never dare try to rob the universe of such a vital force.

People died.

People died all the time.

The laws of nature didn’t die.

But the noise. The overwhelming noise had gotten so much softer and yet so much worse, Yaz slamming the TARDIS doors shut with her own body. Staring forwards, staring at the wood, the shell of the ship and trying with every bit of herself to focus on breathing. Breathing. Something that should be natural and yet felt as alien to her as The Noise.

It wasn't the sort of noise her wonderful, amazing Doctor should ever have to make because the thought of the Doctor dying had never occurred to Yaz before. The Doctor couldn’t die, planets needed her, people needed her.

History needed her.

Ryan and Graham needed her.

Fear had never frozen Yaz before, not truly. At eleven, when her few friends had insisted on sneaking into some horror film they weren’t prepared for, she’d stared at the screen and faced the upcoming nightmares with as much grace as she could manage. Even then, as frightened as she was, she’d not looked away. Not knowing but hearing seemed so much worse because at least watching the screen she could see the next thing coming.

So why couldn’t she turn now? Why was her hand stuck to the blue, the laughter outside still echoing beneath the whimpers playing like a soundtrack?

“What the hell did they do to her?”

Panic. It filled every last sound from Graham’s mouth, shuffling to help Ryan lower the barely conscious Doctor onto the floor, trying to avoid her head slamming on the metal as another jolt audibly ran through her.

It’d been an ambush.

Of course it’d been an ambush. Anyone who’d met the Doctor for more than a heartbeat knew she’d never hesitate in responding to a distress signal; it wasn’t in her nature to do nothing when people were hurting.

But for once, it’d been an ambush only for the Doctor. The gas – or poison – or whatever it was, had only been intended for her.

_What’s the point of your ‘gang’ if they can’t help you now, Doctor?_

It was always her doing the saving. Her role, her nature. Even her name, something Yaz was partly certain the blonde had chosen and partly certain had chosen her, suited her with its kind hearted oddness.

The Master had mocked them with such ease, ensuring they watched how the Doctor’s very energy changed in his presence. Ready for war, bracing herself for pain, shoulders tense and eyes hardening. From healer to soldier in a matter of moments: sheer, unadulterated panic on her features when the walls had come up between herself and her Fam. 

Somehow even now, the fact the Doctor had seemed **less** panicked when it’d been made clear _she_ was the one in danger, made Yaz want to open the doors and vomit her own lungs out.

The Doctor was always there to save them, to catch them when they fell. She was always there to stop them from losing themselves to hatred and fear.

Yet they’d been so utterly helpless.

Unable to reach her until the gas had cleared and she came falling down, rendered a blur of blue.

“Yaz. Yaz please, we need you.” Ryan half begged, voice weak yet audible enough to drag her out of her panic. "What do we do?"

Seeing strangers hurt or suffering was one thing. She had training, she had experience at calming strangers. The less she knew them the easier it was to detach herself and simply be PC Khan.

Finding a balance between PC Khan and Yasmin Khan didn’t feel doable.

_Or maybe they just don’t care for you as you do them. They do always leave you, don’t they?_

The Doctor didn’t believe it, surely. She couldn’t believe it. But even in the brief opportunities they’d had to watch the Doctor interact with the Master, it was clear he had an easy reach into her mind. They’d known each other a long time, _best enemies_ , probably for longer than Yaz could imagine. He knew the Doctor in a way none of them could understand yet: all three of them aware that as much as the Doctor needed company, she made an art of always talking without ever actually saying anything about herself.

“Love, we could use your help over here.” Graham spoke up, breathless panic no better hidden than it’d been in Ryan’s voice.

Neither one enough by themselves yet the next cry allowed her to move. Steps slow, careful as she turned. There was nowhere to run, no hiding, just like there was no preparing herself.

Usually the Doctor was an image to be marvelled at, or amusingly charming in her seemingly innocent approach to human interactions. A giant playing amongst children, wanting to avoid treading those near, wanting to learn from them the things she’d lost along the way.

Usually the Doctor was… not this. Not fragile, not limp. Too pale, hair sticking to the layer of sweat on her face. Like this she didn’t seem to shine, nor buzz, her skin was finally too big around her.

Like this, she had Yaz’s own chest tightening almost impossibly around her heart, crushing it as she finally made her way over.

This wasn’t the woman she knew, this woman was a stranger with her face. Frighteningly mortal.

“How do we know he’s not just going to follow us in here?”

“He won’t.” Yaz whispered in response, unable to actually look at Graham as she slowly knelt next to the blonde and Ryan. “That wasn’t the point he was making this time.”

“He’s not right in the head. Just because it wasn’t the point he was planning doesn’t mean he’ll turn down the opportunity.”

Instead of responding, the young officer took another moment to collect herself. Shifting closer and delicately moving her trembling hands to the Doctor’s hair, careful in lifting her head enough to rest it on Yaz’s legs.

“Doc? Doc, can you hear us?” Nothing. Graham shook his head, roughly rubbing his face. “I’m going to go see if I can—I don’t know. Find something useful. See if this ship points me to a magic pill. Never know, maybe there’s an alien first aid box.”

With a desperate attempt at a comforting smile the man quickly headed off, the thought of uselessness in a moment like this beyond anything he could cope with. Still, had Yaz been able to look up, she’d have noticed how his worried gaze lingered on all of them equally.

 _I promised you, and I let you down._ The Doctor had said it herself, had warned them early on. The more people depended on her, the harder it was to envision the future where she’d be alone again. Fam. Gang. No matter what label she put on it, the Doctor had never made it a secret what she was looking for: a temporary home. A temporary family where for just a bit of her lonely existence she could forget that before she knew it they’d all be gone again. But right now, no matter what happened, they needed her to know she wasn’t alone – she needed a reason to fight.

Be sure. Be sure. They’d been told to be sure and right now Yasmin had never been so certain about anything in her life, barely daring to breathe as her fingers stroked back the blonde locks, unable to look at anything but the traveller.

She’d never been more certain than when deciding to stay with the Doctor.

“Doctor? Can y’ hear us?” _Please, please hear us_. Ryan shook his head, sighing as he gave Yaz a hopeful glance. “You try. If she’s going to respond to any of us it’d be you.”

The comment, at any other time, would have been met with a wide range of surprised responses. It may have even been enough to be met with startled denials: what could he mean? The Doctor cared for all of them equally. She’d die for any of them.

Surely that meant she would live for them too.

“I’m going- I’m gonna go help Graham. See- see if there’s anything. Anything to help. We can’t exactly walk her into a hospital like ‘morning, don’t worry she’s meant to have two hearts, can you keep at least one of them beating’.” 

(Hell, it was probably lucky the attack had been on Earth, not that any of them were feeling lucky.)

Faltering, Ryan squeezed Yaz’s shoulder, trying to work himself up into moving but not wanting to leave the women as they were. “Unless she’s like an octopus. Where they need all three hearts or they die? Not that she’s going to die. It’s the Doctor. We’ll – we’ll help her.”

Barely forcing a nod her thumb traced the edge of the older woman’s hairline, trying to offer any comfort she could when another pained gasp escaped. They’d seen the Doctor in pain before, she’d been hurt before, she’d been frightened before. She’d even been angry before.

There were times, hidden within tiny split second revelations, where the Doctor had also been almost exposed. Simple, cheery words hiding the raw reality of her life so far. For everything she’d loved, everyone she’d once had, she now only had memories to try and make proud.

Yaz couldn’t remember ever seeing the Doctor vulnerable before. Utterly defenceless as her sharp breath echoed, raspy in the otherwise silent TARDIS.

“Can you hear me?”

A stupid question. It was so stupid. If the Doctor hadn’t heard Graham or Ryan when they had tried, there was no chance she’d suddenly hear Yaz’s mutterings.

It was, of course, almost certainly her imagination how the Doctor stilled a little in her weak shifting. Wishful thinking to guide her through, Yaz moving her right hand to rub the woman’s shoulder whilst still repetitively smoothing back her hair.

“You’ll be fine. We- Graham and Ryan. They need you to be fine, we need you to be fine. Where would we be without you?”

Where would anyone be without her? Faltering slightly, she allowed herself a weak sigh and to gently wrap the light hair around a finger before watching it bounce back.

“Just tell me. Tell me how to help you, please.”

Did the Master want her dead? Yaz wasn’t entirely certain. He wanted the Doctor frightened, he wanted her to hurt. He seemed to want to destroy the good she clung to until there was nothing but free falling. A game of cat and mouse because if he did kill her, what would remain for himself but eternal boredom?

The lack of a response was far from surprising, winching when the Doctor sharply jolted, head saved from the certain concussion that would have followed by Yaz’s carefully placed legs.

“Breathe. Just breathe. I know it hurts, but it’ll pass, I promise.”

Vulnerability didn’t seem to suit the Doctor, yet it didn’t seem a stranger to her features either. Both ancient looking and so young at the same time, lost within whatever agony Yaz couldn’t reach her fully through… but if the signs were anything to work off of, maybe some parts of her voice were making their way through.

Even in her usual state, the Doctor so easily embodied humanity itself, the best parts they all strived to keep alive. Right now, with her nails scraping the floor and face twisted into a grimace, she was embodying the frailty none of them wanted to admit to. The frailty she always worked so hard to hide – how could she ever expect the gang to put their lives in her hands if she allowed herself to be as flawed as she knew herself to be?

The Doctor was no god, no law of nature, no immovable presence. She was a stubborn traveller who refused to be blown away with so many people’s forgotten good intentions. It was how she inspired such total loyalty.

Hard to kill, but never victorious.

Yaz had seen it before, never so evidently, but she’d seen it. Hidden in the corner of fake-confident smiles and dancing on the end of half-finished sentences. The Doctor, like them, wanted nothing more than for her time to have mattered.

If civilisations sang songs of her, it didn't seem overly unfair for her to hope they’d forget the bits of her she tried to keep hidden.

Who could possibly want a flawed hero to thank for saving lives?

More than ever before, Yaz couldn’t help the helpless anger that lingered.

“With or without your approval, I’ll kill him if he comes near you again.”

She’d never envisioned herself as capable of murder, yet the words came with no hesitation, no doubt. Leaning down to press a brief kiss to the cold forehead beneath her, sighing out and resuming her fiddling with short hair. 

“So I guess that has to be motivation enough for you to wake up, doesn’t it?”

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be the first part of a three parter, but we'll have to see. We see Thirteen so willing to do anything to protect her Fam I find it fascinating to imagine her reaction to being cared for. When was the last time she was truly vulnerable around anyone for more than a second or two at a time? 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed, of course my first foray writing in this fandom since I was a thirteen had to be gay angst because why not. Lesbihonest, we all know this ship is going to be my catnip. Jennip? 
> 
> _Song Inspiration:_ Lewis Capaldi - Hold Me While You Wait


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